


Got Out of Bed, Could Not Remember My Own Name

by elithewho



Category: American Actor RPF
Genre: Crack, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drunkenness, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hand Jobs, Homosexuality, This Fic is Problematic, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:08:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8242360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elithewho/pseuds/elithewho
Summary: She was his friend. Like a sister to him. He was way too old for her. She was a girl. There were so many problems with his stupid little crush that he didn’t even know which to have the most angst over.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Morgan convinced me to do this, so you can blame her. Also, David O. Russell. I feel comfortable blaming him for most things wrong with society.
> 
> Title is from "How to Embrace a Swamp Creature" by the Mountain Goats.

She was snuggled close against him, head on his shoulder, hair tickling his nose. It was all nice and comfortable, the kind of warm physical affection that Bradley had been missing. He’d been lonely for a while, apparently. Too busy.

Which must be why he was enjoying it so much. Yeah, that was it. He was just touch starved, that was all. That’s why it felt so nice to be warm and cuddled against her.

Jennifer was like a sister to him. A best friend. Whenever they managed to get together it was like Bradley was her age again, drinking hard and then devolving into long emotional talks about her love life. She called him her “gay bff” which was just the sort of weird, Jennifer-talk he used to find so annoying in other people. 

“Am I crazy?” she asked him over drinks the night before.

How to answer? Because of course she was crazy, that was one of the things he loved – _liked_ – about her. She was nuts. But in a good way. Probably not the best response at the moment though.

“No, of course not, he’s an asshole,” he told her and patted her hand.

She smiled at that and Bradley congratulated himself on his great girl talk skills. 

“More shots!” Jennifer announced and how could he say no to that?

Bradley didn’t dance, strictly speaking, and Jennifer might call him a “bad gay” but really he preferred to watch her. She had this weird, fluid way of dancing, twisting her torso side to side and throwing her hair around. Getting lost in the music, he thought. In the pulsing lights of the club, her blonde hair looked blue and then green and then blue again. The glittery stuff she had smeared on her eyes caught the light with every movement, making her look fae-like. 

“I’m going for the street walker look, what do you think?” she’d said earlier when he met up with her. Her eye makeup was thick and sparkly, her lips were dark red. She wore a very tiny mini-dress.

“Gorgeous,” he said sincerely. And she just laughed in that crazy, loud way of hers.

After the club, she wasn’t done. Jennifer rarely was. Lately, Bradley had been turning in early, watching a nature doc or reading a good book before bed. Obviously he was an old person now. But Jennifer was still young, angsty, ready to party at all times.

“Let’s go back to mine,” she insisted and Bradley could never say no to her.

They both happened to be in the same city for once and her agents had put her up in a very nice hotel, and if Jennifer and Bradley were ever in a hotel room alone, they were emptying the mini-bar. It was a fact of nature.

“Oh my god, I want a cheeseburger,” she said the second they got in.

Bradley just laughed and collapsed in a chair. Within minutes, she was throwing tiny bottles of vodka at him with the hotel phone tucked under her ear.

“Yeah, can I have a cheeseburger with extra bacon and fries, mayo on the side… Do you want anything?”

“No thanks.”

Jennifer shrugged and kicked her shoes off before sticking her feet in his lap. Her toenails were painted neon green.

“Just so you know, I’m not sharing. You had your chance and threw it away. Now drink up.”

Why did it always end up this way? With Jennifer foisting more shots upon him, a brief digression into more boy troubles, and then the room service arriving? It was a familiar, comfortable sort of night, despite the discomfort of extreme drunkenness Bradley was experiencing. And he did steal her fries, because she was a weird freak who dipped them in mayo and he just couldn’t let that slide.

“I don’t know how you do it, I was on a diet constantly in my 20s,” he said.

“Yeah, I’m getting fatter by the second,” she said, deadpan, and stood up. Bradley watched her strip off her dress like he was in a daze.

Bradley had a vivid memory of being 14 and changing for gym. He looked over at one of his buddies stripping off his sweats and Bradley… noticed. It was one of those rather obvious clues that he had spent way too long trying to repress. Why was he thinking about that now? He felt warm, too warm. There was sweat on his forehead.

Jennifer had a nice body. Of course she did, he had always noticed it. Noticed it the way he noticed all beautiful women, not like _noticed._ Noticed didn’t even seem like a real word anymore as he kept watching her, in just her underwear, little pink boy shorts and black lacey bra. His brain sort of felt like sirens blaring, a fire alarm rattling on and on screaming, “GET OUT WHILE YOU STILL CAN.”

Seconds later, Jennifer was wearing an oversized t-shirt. 

“Your punishment for stealing my fries is no more booze. I’m cutting you off,” she said.

It took a second for Bradley to regain his faculties of speech.

“That’s probably for the best,” he finally managed, feeling dazed.

Her hair was all tangled and messy and her makeup was beginning to run. What was the term? Raccoon eyes.

“I need to sleep soon,” he muttered.

“OK, old man,” she said. “I need to take my bra off, hold on.”

And she did. She stuck her hands under her shirt and did something complicated and then she was pulling her bra out of the sleeve of her huge t-shirt. Then she threw it at him.

Bradley didn’t move at first, he just chuckled all low and drunk. Jennifer was stumbling towards the bathroom. Bradley closed his eyes. Her flimsy, lacey bra was draped over his face and he wasn’t moving it. It smelled like her. Not just her perfume, but her body. She was always hugging him, always kissing him, looping her arm through his, calling him her gal pal. And he loved it, all that affection, the way she felt next to him, the way she _smelled_. Something that would be completely weird if he said it out loud, but he was thinking it now. It made him feel warm all over, hot even. Boiling.

The door clicked and Jennifer emerged, startling him. He grabbed her bra off his face and threw it back at her. 

“Real mature,” she scoffed and flopped onto the bed. 

It was perfectly normal, sleeping in the same bed as her. Nothing weird at all. He was her _gal pal_. He could see the outline of her breasts through her t-shirt.

So that brought him to the morning. Waking up with Jennifer next to him and a raging boner in his shorts was a trip. Her breathing was soft and even, warm and damp on his bare chest. Her hair smelled nice. Her skin was soft like a ripe peach and why was he even thinking those thoughts?

Jennifer grunted and rolled over. Bradley quickly adjusted himself so that his morning wood wasn’t so obvious. 

“Ugh, my mouth tastes like shit,” she announced, sitting up. Her makeup was all smudged and flaked off. Bradley felt a lump form in his throat. She was so lovely.

What was wrong with him? Jennifer pulled herself up and he caught a flash of her butt in those hot pink boy shorts before she disappeared into the bathroom. That warm feeling he got whenever he was around her wasn’t new, he always missed her when she was gone and got excited whenever she sent him a text. But it was never… _sexua_ l.

He used to try to be straight. In junior high a bunch of his friends had found a stack of Playboys in the woods and while they had all poured over them like they held the secrets to the universe, Bradley had only pretended to be interested. He’d long given up on that pipe dream, come to accept himself the way he is, yadda yadda… 

That night, after his cup of tea and nature doc, Bradley pulled out his laptop. He queued up some of his old favorites from his porn archive. Big hairy bear deep dicks innocent twink, the usual. He watched a couple, enjoyed that familiar tightening in his groin. Yup, still gay. Then, while casually stroking himself through his boxers, he went searching for that great mystery, heterosexual porn. “Hot sluts,” was a good search term to start with he thought. “Pretty ladies,” probably wouldn’t work as well, he reasoned. And there they were, those hot sluts, bent in all kinds of positions or just smiling all coyly at the camera while spreading their legs for a full view. There were even some hot horny sluts in his area, all he had to do was click here. 

But it was just like all the other times he had tried so hard to muster up some interest in naked girls. His erection wilted, despite all those lovely ladies on the screen. Bradley sighed. So he didn’t suddenly get straight, that was a relief. Still…

Bradley shut his laptop with a click. He almost immediately opened it again so he could close all those porn windows. Old habits. Then he lay back and let his mind wander. He thought about Jennifer, all soft and warm and bubbly. Her breath on his neck, her skin against his. The way she smelled. Her body tight against him. He was half hard again and he slipped a hand into his boxer briefs, groaning a little. He thought of her taking off her dress, bouncing around in her underwear. Her breasts would be so soft. She’d look down at him with her big blue eyes, sparkling with mischief, bite her pink, glossy lips. He was full on jerking it, thinking about his friend, Jennifer, his female friend and all her soft curves, how she would feel under his hands.

He came with a strangled yell and lay there boneless for a few long minutes, his mind buzzing with white noise. So he was still gay, but maybe not entirely gay. Maybe there was one blaring exception to his gayness in the whole wide world and she was his best friend.

 

After coming to this realization, Bradley found himself thinking about Jennifer about every second of every day. They were still in the same city and that meant she was constantly sending him SnapChats. He didn’t even have any other friends on SnapChat because it was Jennifer who put the app on his phone when he was in the bathroom one time so he only got snaps from her.

#pumpkinspice! from her trip to Starbucks. A flood of emojis with a picture of herself on a billboard. Her bagel and cream cheese, followed closely by ice cream and then sushi. Then she went shopping apparently and there she was in the dressing room mirror trying on tiny dresses and miniskirts and other distracting things, all captioned with emojis and hashtags. Bradley felt weirdly hollow. Now that he realized he was probably in love with her, it was clearer than ever that he was just one of the girls. Her gay bff. Completely non-threatening, totally without any interest in her. Next came a snap of an attractive man, obviously taken from a distance, captioned with a heart eyes emoji. Bradley sighed. Jealousy, that’s what he was feeling. Which was entirely stupid. 

She was his friend. Like a sister to him. He was way too old for her. She was a _girl_. There were so many problems with his stupid little crush that he didn’t even know which to have the most angst over.

Bradley had the distinct urge to bash his head against the wall or something. Instead he just put his phone out of reach and tried not to think about it.

When the weekend rolled around, Jennifer was texting him again to hang out. Bradley knew what that meant. Hit up a few bars and a few clubs and get hilariously drunk. Maybe she would cry on his shoulder a few times and then bounce right back to dancing happily to the pulsating music. It was all going according to plan and then they were stumbling back to her hotel room, Bradley holding her steady because she was wobbling dangerously on her very pointy high heels. 

“Oh my god, I’m so drunk,” Jennifer slurred, apparently at the announcing the obvious stage of drunkenness.

“Yeah,” Bradley agreed, grabbing onto the wall for balance.

Up in her hotel room, they ordered room service and stuffed themselves with onion rings and chocolate cake. Jennifer had long lost her heels and her little skirt kept riding up her thighs every time she moved. Bradley was pretending not to notice. She got up to sit next to him on the couch, missed, and laughed madly while sitting on the floor. Bradley had to laugh with her. Her laugh was just infectious. Now they were both falling over laughing and Bradley was on the floor next to her.

They had laughed themselves breathless and Bradley could feel her warmth pressing against him. She threaded her arm through his and laid her head on his shoulder. Bradley was warm all over now, and he turned his head just a fraction, catching a whiff of her hair. She smelled like vodka and blue raspberry flavoring and also strawberry shampoo. 

“I wish you weren’t gay sometimes,” she said with a deep sigh.

Bradley didn’t have anything to say to that. She must have felt how tense he suddenly got because she looked up at him, her bright eyes shining, so blue against the khol she had lined them with.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “That was probably like… problematic. You just get me so well.”

“It’s… OK,” he finally managed to say. Her face was very close to his.

She smiled, her lip twitching a tiny bit. Her bottom lip was so glossy, so pink. He wanted to rub his thumb across it. For a moment he was only thinking about doing it. Then Jennifer’s eyes got wide and he realized he really was doing it. His thumb was sticky with her lip gloss. It smelled like peaches. 

He was missing a connection between A and B. First he was just looking at her, heart filled with tenderness, then he was kissing her. Bradley wasn’t sure how one became the other, but they were kissing and his brain was short circuiting. She tasted like chocolate cake and artificial peaches. The last time he’d kissed a girl on the mouth unscripted he was in seventh grade. It hadn’t gotten farther than a few pecks. It was getting way farther than that in very short order. Before he knew it, Bradley was crushing her against him, her tongue in his mouth. He was all wrapped up in her, in _Jennifer_ , in the scent and feel and taste of her. It was all going straight to his cock and he groaned when she rubbed against him.

“Brad…” she muttered, breathless. “Brad, what are you doing?”

“S-sorry,” he stammered, head spinning. “Sorry.”

“You’re gay,” she said flatly. She hadn’t moved her hand out of his hair.

“Yeah, I am,” he agreed, squeezing her waist. “Usually.”

Neither of them were in the mood to examine it further. Instead, he kissed her again. It was all getting very hot and heavy on the hotel room floor and Bradley was in way over his head. All he knew was that he should keep kissing her because she felt so good and was making all these amazing breathy moans the more he did it. He kissed down her neck, his hand sliding up her waist to feel the underside of her breast. Jennifer giggled and he stopped.

“Sorry,” she said with a small grin. “This is just… weird.”

“Yeah,” he said and his other hand went in search of her zipper. To no avail.

“It’s on the side,” she whispered in his ear, low and sultry. Bradley grinned against her neck, laying light kisses on her pulse point, making her shiver.

When he finally located that stupid zipper under her left arm, his hands began to shake as he pulled her dress down. She was wearing the same bra as before. Bradley froze, confronted with his first real pair of boobs and suddenly feeling very overwhelmed. Jennifer took the lead, reaching behind her back to unhook her bra and tossing it aside. At the same time, she hitched up her skirt and sat astride his thighs, pushing her breasts right in his face. Bradley moaned, hands skimming up her sides as her nipples brushed his cheek.

“Ah, that tickles,” she said breathily. She took hold of his shaking hands and guided them directly to her breasts. “How’s that,” she muttered. “Still gay?”

“Not at the moment, no,” he replied, licking his lips. He was fully hard, rubbing against her inner thigh. 

“Oh good,” she said, tossing her pale hair over her shoulder.

He pinched her nipple, supposing that they worked just about the same as guy nipples. He supposed correctly, if her deep moan was anything to go by. He enjoyed how soft she was, how smooth, how her nipples seemed to be far more sensitive than what he was used to. He tweaked the hardening bud, taking the other one in his mouth. She gasped sharply, her hand pushing into his hair as though to hold him there. He licked slowly, teasing it lightly with his teeth. He pulled back, thumb brushing over the hard, slick nipple he had just tongued. Jennifer’s face was bright pink, her eyes hooded.

“Very good,” she whispered, biting her lip.

He kissed her again, nibbling that lip gently. He felt her pull his hair, blunt nails scratching at the back of his neck. He didn’t want to stop, but his back was starting to hurt from sitting on the floor for so long. Shakily, he managed to get up, pulling Jennifer with him by the waist. He guided her onto the couch and she spread out under him, deliciously pink and warm. Her hands found the bottom of his shirt, tugging it up to feel his hip bones. Bradley released a shaky breath as her finger skimmed his lower stomach. He helped her pull his shirt off and Jennifer giggled.

“What?” he said, suddenly self-conscious.

“I just… never expected this to happen,” she said.

Bradley grinned. “Neither did I.”

Her eyes were sparkling, fingers plucking at the button on his jeans. His hand traveled down her body, pushing at her dress still bunched around her waist. She was wearing little purple panties, patterned with white polka dots. She shivered a little as his hand trailed over her belly. He wrapped his hand around her hip, thumbing the lacey edge of her panties.

Jennifer had gotten his jeans open, her little hand pushing into his boxer briefs. Bradley was holding himself up with his hand braced on the arm of the couch beside her head but he was starting to shake. She fondled him slowly and Bradley leaned down to kiss her, dropping his hand and crushing their bodies together. He rocked against her hand as her thighs parted. Her other hand tugged down his jeans and shorts, pushing them to tangle around his knees. She gave his ass a loving squeeze as she stroked his dick and Bradley would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate his ass being played with.

It was all a lot to deal with, her small hand on his cock and the other on his ass as he kissed her warm face and cupped her breast, thumbing her stiff nipple. He was just thinking that it wasn’t enough for _her_ , that he wanted to do more, when he felt her fingers dip between his cheeks, teasing against his asshole and then he was coming into her hand. He gasped a strangled moan and pushed his face into her hair, his come splattering on her stomach.

“Damn,” he heard her mutter and he pulled himself up, embarrassed.

“Sorry,” he said, face burning.

“It’s OK,” she said, still grinning. “That was hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He wasn’t done though. He kicked off his jeans and underwear and hooked his thumbs under the waistband on her panties.

“You sure?” she said, brows creased.

He nodded. He was very sure. Her panties were wet and he took that as a good sign before tossing them over his shoulder. He touched her gently at first, hand just skimming her inner thigh. Jennifer bit her lip and he watched her face carefully. His fingers found her cunt and she was warm and wet and sensitive, based on how she arched into his hand. She may have been a mystery to him at first, but she wasn’t all that hard to figure out. He kept touching her, watching for her reactions, her low breathy moans and the way she twitched when his thumb nudged her clit.

“Yeah, right there,” she breathed, eyelids fluttering. 

If Bradley could do anything, it was take direction. He circled her clit with his thumb, fingers pushing at her entrance. It was wonderful, actually, how wet she was. How she smelled. It had never appealed to him, but now he was so enamored with the way she looked, arching off the couch, flushed all down to her breasts, twisting into his hand. 

“Ah, oh Brad,” she murmured, hair in her face as her writhed around. 

Bradley kissed the side of her face, brushing strands of soft hair away from where they had stuck to her glossed lips. He concentrated on her clit, pushing his two fingers deeper and then fucking her slowly. She still smelled so good, so warm and now slightly damp with sweat. He nuzzled her breast, grazing her nipple with his lips. She seemed to tighten around his fingers and she screamed a little as he rubbed her clit faster. He felt her come even as she whispered, “I’m coming.” And that was Jennifer, always stating the obvious. 

She lay there panting and Bradley fitted himself next to her, firmly close and all but wrapped around her, but not crushing her with his weight. He listened to her heartbeat pound and kissed her breastbone.

“Wow,” she said finally and then giggled. “To think a gay guy is better at getting me off than most straights.”

Bradley had to laugh. “Straights?”

“Yeah, _straights_. They think I want my clit jackhammered I guess.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment then,” he muttered and he felt her hand in his hair again, just petting him gently. It felt so nice he wanted to melt into her.

“Definitely. You definitely should.”

Bradley grinned smugly and Jennifer grabbed his hair, shaking him a little.

“Now don’t get too up yourself. That’s just the sort of thing a straight man would do,” she warned and Bradley sighed.

“Point taken.”


End file.
